Know Thy Enemy
by AelinGreywaren
Summary: Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger discover that curiosity is a dangerous thing. When a mutually beneficial relationship borne of hidden agendas and ulterior motives changes them both, the path to justice no longer remains black and white. A Dramione story beginning in 6th year. Rated T for now.
1. Chapter 1

Observations

Draco Malfoy was a creature of observation. Of course this was not a habit to be confused with the wandering eyes of his housemates. No, Draco was selective with his gaze. He was not passively fixated and enamoured with every well endowed broad who so much as spared a glance in his direction. The banality of surface level flirtations had ceased to illicit that giddy excitement they had in his younger years at Hogwarts.

His circumstances had changed. Considerably. Now when Draco looked at the girls around him he frequently felt a single overwhelming emotion, _indifference_. He wasn't a complete arse of course, he knew that his lack of interest was just as much his fault as theirs. Maybe even more so. You could say that having the lives of him and his parents resting on his shoulders - resting on his ability to doom his school and his headmaster to certain death, had significantly reduced the amount of time he had for obsessing over such trivial things.

Draco Malfoy had a lot to think about over these coming months and above it all he had a cover to maintain. Now, at the beginning of his sixth year - his freshly minted prefect badge still shiny on his lapel, was not the time for slipping. He had a reputation to uphold. In another life his efforts would have been solely focused on his N.E.W.T's, Quidditch, and, above it all, securing the title of Head Boy in his final year. Of course none of that really mattered now, but still the voice of Lucius Malfoy echoed in his mind, ' _appearances are everything'_.

Yes, Draco had a lot to think about. Which was why he was perturbed at the fact that his careful gaze had found itself, for not the first time in his life, glued to the back of an insufferable Gryffindor's head. Hermione Granger was whipping her neck this way and that as she engaged in what was probably an uninspiring conversation with the other two members of the Golden Trio. Her and the Weasel were likely carrying on about some argument the dimwit couldn't hope to win, while Potter interjected now and again - the amused and impartial third party. It was the same routine he and his classmates had bore witness to since first year, and Draco usually had no problems blocking them out. But it wasn't them he was fixated on. It was her.

Draco was a man of logic and reason. He liked order and structure and perhaps that was why the know it all's physics defying hair seemed to perplex him so. Granted Granger's bushy mane had settled down considerably in recent years, but it was still far from tame. With every turn of her neck another curl managed to free itself from her vain attempt to secure them with a lone ribbon. It was maddening.

He was momentarily distracted as Blaise Zabini finally decided to grace the class with his presence and Draco wordlessly shifted his assignment over for his friend to copy. The Gryffindor Trio were not the only one's with routines of their own. He muttered his obligatory responses to Blaise, all the while returning his stare to Granger. Class had started now and she'd settled into her seat as she always did, perched on the edge with her back straight. Her gaze was fixed to the front - McGonagall the recipient of her undivided attention. Draco had started to notice that she barely even bowed her head to take notes anymore, her quill moved frantically of it's own accord as if she no longer even needed to stare at the parchment.

A question was asked and her hand, obviously, was raised. She gave the correct answer with quiet confidence, the kind one can only possess when they no longer have anything to prove. Gone was the first year girl who practically leapt out of her seat when given the chance to show everyone she knew the correct answer. After all she was, he noted with long brewing bitterness, the brightest witch of their age.

* * *

It was her never failing intelligence he'd first noticed when his involuntary study and fixation of Granger had began. It was October of first year, the three amigos mutualistic relationship was still in it's early days and his disdain for her existence had yet to manifest itself. In fact if he were being honest with himself, he was jealous of her. Jealous, but also fascinated.

Lucius Malfoy had made it explicitly clear that Draco was expected to be the best: best student, best Slytherin, best son. Inadequacy was not acceptable and perfection was the only standard to meet. And why shouldn't it be? After all Draco had been trained by the best tutors from the age of 4 years old. He was fluent in French, German, and Latin all before he'd even set a foot in Hogwarts. He'd been raised in magic, it flowed through his blood. It was his birthright.

And yet here she was. His _competition_. This girl he'd never heard of before and yet had the answer to every question. It was a miracle that her arm was still attached to her body with the amount of times she flailed it about daily. He wasn't sure how quickly it'd happened, but soon everyone knew that Hermione Granger was number one. He was supposed to be the one to beat, and now he was racing to catch up just like everyone else.

So he studied her. Watched how she learned, hoping to absorb it and use it for his own gain. He spent more nights in the library, poured over his books while his friends were more interested in pulling pranks on ghosts. And so he'd started answering questions first, getting the same marks on tests, relishing in the way she'd whip her head around to look at him with shock when the correct answer was not hers to give. And thus began their rivalry. She wasn't a filthy little mudblood to him, not yet. She was simply his opponent in the contest for academic superiority.

All that would change of course. It was Christmas when Narcissa asked Draco what he thought of his school and classmates. Draco had barely had a moment to collect his thoughts when Lucius interjected from his spot next to the fireplace.

"Yes Draco how are your classes? Because from what Severus tells me your intellectual accomplishments leave much to be desired."

Narcissa frowned at her husband and gently caressed her son's head. The act had comforted Draco at the time. "Lucius please, I'm sure Draco is just finding his footing aren't you dear? I'm sure he's still the smartest of the bunch by a landslide aren't you sweetheart?"

He remembered chewing at his bottom lip while pinned underneath his mother's reassuring hand and father's unnerving gaze. "Yes mother. Except for one girl. Her name's Hermione Granger, she's a Gryffindor and she's a complete know it all. I don't think she sleeps, all I ever see her doing is studying it's insanity."

His mother looked confused as she turned back to her husband, "Granger… I haven't heard that name before. Lucius do you know a Granger? Someone at the Ministry perhaps?"

He risked a glance at his father whose stone cold facade betrayed nothing except a twinge of calculation and a promise.

"I'll look into it."

And looked into it he had. The next day during Christmas at the Nott's Draco snuck away from the parlour where the children had been designated to. People like the Malfoys, Parkinsons and the Notts were still under the archaic impression that children were best left unseen until they had something valuable to contribute to society. How he'd wished to remain unseen every time he landed beneath his father's punishing stare. He'd been looking for his mother when he paused outside the open drawing room where Lucius, the elder Nott and a handful of other members of his father's inner circle were gathered.

"A mudblood. Can you believe it," his father spat. _Mudblood_. It hadn't been the first time Draco heard that word cross Lucius's lips. "What'll be next? Dumbledore might as well start letting Muggles in amongst our children. It's disgusting is what it is, it's —,"

His father's eyes landed on him and he paused. Lucius's mouth twisted into a sneer of disapproval.

"Come Draco," his father beckoned. "You may as well be here for this. After all, it is my own son who is the source of this humiliation."

He walked into the room, his face flushed red with embarrassment as he stood silently before the men around him.

"What? You've nothing to say my boy?"

He pinned his eyes to the ground, "Forgive me father, I do not understand."

Several of the men laughed and Draco winced while Lucius looked at him with revulsion, "You don't understand? What's there to understand Draco? Other than the fact that my son, a pureblood, the heir to the Malfoy line is nothing but a second place finish to a filthy little mudblood."

 _Filthy little mudblood_. The uproar was enormous, but Lucius didn't laugh. His lips were taunt as he stared down at his son. An unspoken warning passed between them. Lyall Goyle was the first to stand. He was tipsy and loud from the wine as he lay a meaty hand on Draco's shoulder. "But not for long eh Draco?"

His eyes never left his fathers, who stared down at him with a challenge. There was only one answer.

"No. Not for long."

* * *

It was only with an elbow to the ribs from Zabini did Draco finally attend to his name being called.

"Mr. Malfoy!"

He focused his gaze on Professor McGonagall who was looking rather miffed with hands on her hips.

"Yes Professor," he replied coolly.

" _Yes Professor?_ Mr. Malfoy I don't know what you're daydreaming about, but either answer my question or put your hand down."

Ah yes, her question. He searched his memory to see if anything had registered in his unattended ear. He couldn't even remember raising his hand to answer a question in the first place, never the less what said question was. He let his eyes return to where they'd been a moment before only to find that Granger's back was no longer to him. She was turned in her chair, her own arm raised of course, looking at him with skepticism as if she thought he was insane.

How little times had changed.

"Sorry Professor," he flashed McGonagall his most pleasant and apologetic grin, "Would you mind repeating the question?"

"Oh for mercy's sake," he elder woman muttered under her breath, "I asked whether or not anyone could tell us what preempted the Animagus Registry to create the Protection Against Malicious Transformations Act."

In his periphery he could see Granger frowning at him, undoubtedly annoyed that he was wasting precious class time. He met her eyes for a moment and smirked before turning back towards McGonagall. He answered without hesitation.

"It was the trial of Balthasar Vidal in 1692. Vidal was an animagus who transformed into a coyote and terrorized Muggle villages near his residence in Normandy. He was eventually caught by a Squib after having destroyed tens of properties and killed three muggle children. Vidal was brought before the French Ministry where he was persecuted for his crimes. He was stripped of his wand, but suffered no corpal punishments for his acts."

McGonagall looked slightly taken aback. "Yes well uh, thank you for enlightening us Mr. Malfoy. You are indeed correct, Balthasar Vidal's case —." He allowed himself a quick glance to gauge Granger's reaction, but the brunette had already returned her attention to the front of the class. Shame.

Blaise on the other hand was staring at him dumbfounded.

"How the bloody hell did you know that?"

Malfoy responded nonchalantly, "A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration."

" _First Year_ , God, I barely even remember what classes we took in first year."

He rolled his eyes, "Zabini you can barely even remember what classes we're taking now."

His friend leaned back in his chair and leered, "Fair point." With that Malfoy returned his attention to the old professor, consciously keeping his eyes from straying where they shouldn't be for the remainder of the class.

* * *

Transformation came to an end and everyone raced to reach the doors first, as they always did, like a hoard of untrained animals. He noticed Granger in particular got up in a hurry, no doubt because they had Arithmacy next on the opposite side of the castle. Of course she would be there first. Draco on the other hand felt no such motivation to rush. He and Blaise languidly collected their things while Zabini talked his ear off about some 5th year Ravenclaw he'd spent the morning with.

"Malfoy, you coming?" Zabini leaned against the doorway, keeping his arms raised so the last few straggling students were forced to crouch beneath it on their way out. Draco wasn't sure what motivated to take a final look around the classroom, but he did and noticed a certain someone had left a familiar textbook in their rush to leave.

Malfoy gave a curt shake of his head to which Zabini shrugged, "Suit yourself."

When Malfoy was the last remaining person in the room he strode to the front of the class and picked up a hefty volume of Numerology and Grammatica. He couldn't helped but glean amusement from the irony that Granger had been careless enough to leave behind the very book she needed. He stood there for a moment and considered just leaving it here, rendering her stranded textbook-less during class. Her distress would certainly make for an interesting sight. But nevertheless he sighed and slipped the text into the pocket of his robes, the undetectable extension charm leaving it weightless.

He made his way out the room only to be stopped almost immediately. He had barely half a second to register her blurred figure as she came swinging past the corridor with complete disregard for the presence of anyone who she'd risk careening into. His arms lifted with lightning reflexes and caught her by the wrist and brought her to a halt mere inches away from his chest.

He had to bow his head in order to look at her.

"Granger." Her name left his lips as it always did, laced with boredom and a hint of malevolence - as if the act of merely acknowledging her presence was a burden.

His would be assailant's face was flushed and several more of the curls he'd been observing so intently had freed themselves from her hair tie and were now in disarray. She was panting too - clearly she'd ran back here the moment she noticed something was gone. Though it took him several moments he finally released his hold on her wrists. He dropped them casually and yet in his periphery he watched as she rubbed the space his hands had left the way one would when trying to scrub of something dirty. The irony of the action was not lost on him.

Draco broke the awkward silence between them, "Anyone ever tell you that you have about as much grace as a Horntail Granger?"

His comment seemed to be enough to stir her from confusion. Hermione Granger's eyes were fire as they met his. "I don't know Malfoy, has anyone ever tell you that you have about as much tact as a troll?"

He curved his mouth into a bemused smirk, never quite letting his amusement reach his eyes.

Before he could get a word in edgewise Granger had already begun her tirade, "Besides I'm not the one loafing in doorways waiting for someone to come and knock me over. _Now_ if you will excuse me I have to go find my -," she made her way to push past him to enter the vacated classroom. Before she could make any headway he removed the sizeable book she was searching for from his pocket and placed it between them.

She huffed in frustration, "Malfoy what in Godric's name — oh."

"I take it this is what you were ready to plough a man down for?" She eyed both him and the book with suspicion, waiting several moments before tentatively taking it from him. Malfoy didn't miss the way she carefully avoided any contact with his hands.

She stuffed the book in her own bag which was practically overflowing. He watched as she fiddled with worn leather clasp that she now tied rather than buckled to keep it closed. Even so it looked like it's days were numbered.

He observed her curiously as she shifted nervously on her feet. Nervousness. This was something he hadn't witnessed from her before. No, for the past few years Granger had been the perfect combination of overzealous, confident, and insufferable at worst. Cool, collected, and focused at best, but never nervous. Granted this was the first time the two of them had been alone in years. She probably thought he was going to hex her or something else equally deplorable.

"Well uh thank you. That was uncharacteristically decent of you," she finally managed to get out.

He was on the verge of making a snide comment on how low the mighty Gryffindor has stooped to be thanking the likes of him, when her brows settled into a frown.

"Wait. What exactly were you planning on doing with my book?"

He rolled his eyes. He shouldn't have been surprised at her assumption that he'd resort to something as trivial and childlike as stealing her book from her. As if he had nothing better to do with his time. Nevertheless, he felt a twinge of annoyance all the same. So much for uncharacteristically decent.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but it appears you and I are the only ones who have Arithimacy after this class. I figured I'd spare myself the misfortune of witnessing you having a fit the moment you realized it was gone." He watched with satisfaction as her accusatory gaze morphed into one of embarrassment. She opened her mouth to speak, but this time it was he who cut her off.

He lowered his voice and shifted his body closer to hers. If anyone had been watching them the action would have appeared menacing. Maybe it was. "I don't waste my time on petty crimes, Granger."

If he'd thrown her off balance he couldn't tell as she narrowed her eyes at him. "No of course not. I'd imagine the crimes you busy yourself with are of a significantly different nature." She spat the words out with venom only to immediately clamp her mouth shut, as if insulting him had been a reflex she hadn't been able to control.

At that he sneered as was expected of him when really the words barely stung. After all she was right, but Draco Malfoy had long since stopped trying to be anything except the character he was expected to be.

They stood in silence a moment longer until he coolly slid past her. With his back to her he thought he heard her release a shaky breath. He wasn't entirely sure what motivated him to pause and turn back to look at her once more, but he did.

"You shouldn't concern yourself with my crimes Granger." And with that he left her standing in the arched doorway, not knowing whether his parting words had been a warning or a threat.

* * *

 **A/N :** Ah this is exciting! My first Dramione story! Over the past year or so I've read so many Dramione fics that I've loved, more than I can probably count or remember, and I finally decided to post this little something I've had milling about in the back of my mind for quite some time now. In an impressive feat of procrastination I finally got this planned, written, and outlined the way I want the rest of this story to go. The events of sixth year will remain mostly canon compliant, but the progression of the war will diverge from the events of Deathly Hallows. While Draco and Hermione aren't a couple I've written for in the past, nor have I written anything set in the Hogwarts universe before, I am really excited about this story. It's more for myself than anything really as it's been stewing around in my imagination for such a long time.

Anyways I hope you enjoyed this quick introduction chapter. As all writers do I am always so grateful for anyone that takes the time to read my work or leave favourites, follows, or reviews. I love getting feedback so any thoughts you have are always welcome :) And finally disclaimer, these characters of course (unless otherwise stated) are not my own and they belong to J.K Rowling.

(Also if anyone is here wondering who the hell do I think I am for starting something new when I haven't been updating my other two works in progress... they're coming guys. Slowly, but surely I plan on finishing those. It's sometimes hard to find the time and inspiration, but I have definitely not abandoned them and do not intend to!)


	2. Chapter 2

Silence

"Mione, passda sausachwould ya?"

Hermione glanced up from her arthimacy assignment which she'd been shielding from the splatters of her best friend's Pre-Quidditch breakfast all morning. Ron was waving a grease stained hand in front of her face, pointing to a platter of sausages to her left. She rolled her eyes, the metabolisms of teenage boys would never cease to amaze her. Or perhaps disgust was the better word.

" _Hermione, would you please be so kind as to pass me another plate of sausages_ – is what I'm going to assume you meant." He took the plate she'd extended to him and beamed, swallowing the last of what he'd been devouring beforehand.

"Obviously." al

From the corner of her eye she could make out Harry watching the two of them in amusement as she rolled her eyes and tried returning to her assignment. One could argue that the Gryffindor table the morning before Quidditch tryouts wasn't exactly conducive to productivity, but nevertheless, she wasn't about to let any free time go to waste.

She looked back up to see Ron guzzling down another plate with his third pumpkin juice and cringed, "For heaven's sake Ronald – don't you think you've had enough."

He looked at her in disbelief, "It's Quidditch tryouts, Mione! Tell her Harry, I need my strength. Of course it's not like you'd understand that." He reached over to his right to grab a danish off of Ginny's plate, only to wind up getting clocked in the head by the younger Weasley.

"Oi – what the hell was that for!"

She rolled her eyes, leaving Ron to his new distraction, but deciding that she might as well give up Arithmacy for the time being. His argument with Ginny had turned into an animated discussion of Quidditch tactics and she scowled and turned to Harry. "God I hate Quidditch."

Harry laughed and nudged her playfully, "And to think he's not even on the team yet."

Hermione groaned, "He's going to be insufferable this year isn't he?"

"No more than usual."

She sighed and turned to Harry who'd long since finished his breakfast and was staring at the list of potential new members of the team.

"So why aren't you joining in with the lot of them?" She asked, referring to the Ron, Ginny, Seamus, and all the others who seemed to have nothing better to think about than her absolutely favourite sport.

He shrugged, "Can't show favourites, it wouldn't be fair."

She smiled softly. While Harry never had reservations engaging Ron's enthusiasm for Quiddtich over the years, she knew he would never compromise his integrity as a captain. She saw a stress line forming between his brows, and she could tell what he was thinking before he even spoke.

"He just has to concentrate," Harry said just above a whisper. Referring to Ron, "He's a good player, but he just needs to stay focused. They'll call me out for letting him in if he messes up."

She rubbed his back, "It'll be fine Harry."

"Thanks Mione. You're coming to watch right?"

She smiled, "Of course!"

He looked at her knowingly, "You're coming to watch, or pretend to watch while doing that Arithmacy assignment."

"I will split my time as needed between both."

Their conversation was interrupted by a loud bang coming from further down the table. Seamus, well she assumed it was Seamus… she couldn't exactly make out the face behind the black soot, but based off of his history she felt confident in jumping to that conclusion. He had become over zealous in toasting his breakfast bun. It'd incinerated, along with the rest of his plate, right in his face. The smell of burnt food was acrid in the air. _Oh Seamus_ she thought.

The table erupted in uproarious laughter which seemed to make its way through the rest of the houses as well.

She heard Harry snarl beside her.

"As long as _they_ don't get under his skin, Ron'll be fine."

She followed his gaze to the Slytherin table where Parkinson and Zabini were sniggering along with the rest of their posse. One member was noticeable more sour than the rest, but that didn't stop Malfoy from sending an entitled smirk their way when he noticed their eyes on him.

Hermione wondered whether or not it was worth mentioning her run in with Malfoy to Harry. If she was being completely honest yesterday's encounter had gotten under her skin and she couldn't make out why. There's been something different about Malfoy since the beginning of the semester, and she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

Harry was too consumed by his hatred to notice the subtle changes, and too obsessed with the idea that Malfoy was now a death eater. But there was something beyond that which was different. Before he'd taunt them with a sick, twisted kind of pleasure. This year however, the smarmy entitled air which had surrounded Malfoy for the past 5 years was replaced with something colder. Disinterest. And Hermione didn't know what to make of that, not yet.

"Hermione, you all right?"

She shook away all thoughts of Malfoy. Harry's paranoia was clearly rubbing off on her, and she much preferred pretending he didn't exist. There was nothing to bring up… for now.

"Fine," she smiled. "Shall we go?" Ron and the others had up and left after the commotion with Seamus.

Harry nodded after sending another pensive glare towards the Slytherin table.

"Let's go."

Neither one of them noticed the stone gray eyes following them as they left.

* * *

"Oh I can't watch!" Lavender's shrill voice interrupted Hermione's concentration for the tenth time in the last 60 seconds. As much as Hermione hated Quidditch, she was a good friend and had been focusing on the try outs about as much as everyone else. Except she did it in silence, a practice that Lavender Brown was clearly unfamiliar with.

Ron had just let a goal in, his first, while Cormac McLaggen was sitting pretty on his broom and sniggering at his mistake.

Hermione stood from her seat and crossed her arms, frowning as she saw Ron's nervousness get the better of him. She could rag on him all she wanted, but she knew how important this was to him. To say he'd be devastated if he didn't make the cut would be an understatement. Hermione didn't even want to think about what that would do to his relationship with Harry.

"Eee!"

"Lavender please," Hermione hissed, "You're going to give us a heart attack."

The Gryffindor girl whipped her head around towards Hermione, "How can you be so calm? You're his best friend – don't you even care?"

Hermione fought the inclination to role her eyes and silence the girl herself, but before she could respond Parvati had refocused her friend's attention onto the try out.

"Look he just saved another one! You go Ron!"

Lavender beamed and clapped her hands with more enthusiasm than a chihuahua.

Ron had indeed saved another goal, _thank Merlin_ , but his eyes kept flicking towards Harry and the stands, trying to gauge the crowd's reaction. She followed his eyes to a group of Slytherins who no doubt came for the sole purpose of taunting and teasing. She supposed it was natural for the opposing teams to come watch their competition's try outs and get a sense of what they'd be up against for the rest of term. But from the looks on their faces, Hermione could tell they were pleased with what they were seeing, and that did not bode well for Ron.

She returned her gaze to the match only to find Cormac leering at her, again. Her eyes shifted away from his awkwardly. She'd been catching him staring at her during class as well and she had no interest in finding out why. She groaned as she reluctantly watched him save another goal. Hermione knew he wasn't any better than Ron, but he was more confident, and unfortunately it was helping.

 _Come on Ron,_ she thought to herself.

Her heart stopped as she saw him save another goal, only to lose his balance and slide off of his broom. She could see Ron struggling to regain his position while Cormac chided, "Just let go Weasley. No use drawing out the inevitable is there."

Hermione glared at McClaggen, and if she weren't so focused on the game she would have noticed that she had an audience herself.

In a moment of passion, she muttered a _Confundo,_ causing McLaggen to miss his next save. She smirked with satisfaction as she watched McLaggen stare at his broom in confusion. The move gave Ron a fresh burst of confidence and he was stunning for the rest of the match, while McLaggen seemed to overthink every move. Served him right, Hermione thought, the git deserved to be brought down a peg or two. And when it was announced that Ron had made the team she cheered just as loudly as everyone else, not stopping to ask herself what would have happened if she'd stayed silent.

* * *

Hours later she was in the common room with the rest of the Gryffindor's who were celebrating the outcome. Ronald in particular had shifted his overindulgence from food to alcohol, and to say he was sloshed was an understatement. Hermione had been enjoying a nice conversation with Luna when he came up to the two of them and threw his arms around them.

Luna managed to sneak her way out from under his reach, leaving Hermione trapped in a bear hug. "I did it Mione!" He proceeding to lift her up and twirling her around, and despite her better judgement she found herself laughing at his ridiculousness.

"Ron put me down!" she laughed. He obliged and she straightened out her skirt.

"Have a drink with me Hermione!"

"I think you've had more than enough for the both of us" she fired back.

He waved his arms around, "So, I'm a free man! Not like I have any other responsibilities tonight. C'mon Mione, have some _fun_." She shook her head.

"Don't you have patrol?"

He staggered backwards and looked at her through glazed eyes, "Oh yeah patrol, Dean's gonna do it."

Hermione looked past Ron's shoulder to where Dean had lost his tongue inside of Ginny's mouth,

"Right." She deadpanned, but Ron had already left. She turned around the room to see if there was anyone else who wasn't completely and utterly smashed, but even Harry had already had his fair share to drink – although he seemed to be drowning his sorrows more than celebrating.

She sighed and grabbed her cloak from beneath the arse of some fourth year and left, leaving a common room filled with her peers behind. Someone had to be the responsible one. And that someone always seemed to be her.

* * *

She was the later party to arrive, and found Professor McGonagall shifting impatiently while Malfoy leaned against a desk – the picture of boredom.

"Miss Granger, what are you doing here? Where's Mr. Weasley?"

She could see Malfoy perk up, a curious smirk on his face. She made a point to ignore him.

"He's ill Professor, I volunteered to cover for him this evening."

Malfoy snorted in disbelief, earning him a glare from McGonagall, "Are you ill as well Mr. Malfoy? Or just belligerent?"

Hermione sneered while Malfoy coughed awkwardly into his shoulder, "No Professor, I'm fine."

"Very well then Miss Granger, seeing as Miss Parkinson has also decided not to grace us with her presence, you and Mr. Malfoy can patrol together."

Malfoy opened his mouth in objection, but Hermione beat him to it, "Professor, wouldn't it make more sense for us to patrol separately? It'll take twice as long to cover the whole castle."

McGonagall was already making her way towards the exit, "I'm afraid I can't allow that Miss Granger, you'll just have to take this up with your peers later." And with that she left.

Hermione crossed her arms and looked at Malfoy who stared at her for a moment before lifting himself off the desk and leaving her standing in the room alone. She sighed before following after him, feeling the weight of the day slow each and every one of her steps.

She caught up to him quickly and they fell into an uncomfortable silence. It was a Tuesday night and the halls of the castle were empty. The nights at Hogwarts tended not to get rowdy until Thursdays or Fridays. At first Hermione enjoyed the quiet, it was peaceful or at least as close to peaceful as she could get while walking next to Malfoy. A part of her remained that felt uneasy in his presence. She wasn't afraid of him for she refused to give him that satisfaction, but she'd be an idiot if she didn't feel a tinge of nervousness.

After 10 minutes the peacefulness turned to boredom, and she found her gaze drifting to his profile. The halls were dark, but in the light of his wand his face looked like marble – completely expressionless.

She wasn't sure what compelled her speak, but she broke the silence between them, "Where's Pansy?"

His eyes remained in front of him. "That's none of your concern." She sighed in defeat, she should have known better than to expect a normal answer from him.

"Where's the Weasel?" He shot back after a few moments.

Hermione scoffed, "Probably passed out in fire whiskey by now, or making a fool out of himself in some way or another."

Malfoy paused and looked at her curiously. Perhaps he hadn't expected her to answer.

"And you didn't want to join in on the celebrations."

Hermione frowned, "He has enough people boosting his ego."

Malfoy smirked, "He probably hasn't even thanked you has he."

She paused, "What are you talking about?"

When Malfoy noticed she was no longer following him he turned around to face her.

"I know what you did Granger."

She rolled her eyes, "I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about."

He raised his brow, "Is that so? So you weren't the reason McLaggen missed that save. I have to say Granger I didn't know you had that in you."

 _Shit._

"Maybe Cormac isn't as talented as he thinks he is," she shrugged off nonchalantly.

"Or maybe Weasley isn't."

She glared at him and opened her mouth in rebuttal, but he was already walking away and down the hall. She huffed as she caught up and grabbed onto his sleeve,

"Malfoy if you say anything."

He whipped around to face her and glared at the spot where her hand gripped his robes. She flushed and lifted her fingers.

"Then you'll what Granger," his voice was low and threatening, "Tell me. What will little miss know it all do if I spill the beans on her boyfriend's success."

"First of all, Ron is not my boyfriend. And second of all, he got onto that team based on pure talent and there's nothing you can do to prove otherwise." His stone eyes were burning into hers, but as Hermione shifted beneath his gaze she noticed that there was something missing. Anger. The loathing that normally filled his eyes whenever he looked at her was gone, or diluted at least. Instead all she noticed was that he looked tired. More than tired… exhausted.

They paused under a torch and she could make out the circles beneath his eyes more clearly now, deep and purple like bruises. She narrowed her eyes to get a closer look, able to now make out the blood shot veins in the whites of his eyes.

She wasn't sure what compelled her to ask, and she regretted the words the moment they left her mouth. "Are you all right Malfoy?"

He grimaced and shoved her away from him, not hard enough to make her fall, but forcefully enough that she lost her balance. She collected herself, but he was right in front of her again. Now he was pissed, and every word came out like a threat.

"My well-being is none of your concern Granger, and you'd do well to remember that."

Her palms grew clammy and her stomach was in knots as she tried to muster up some semblance of confidence, "Who said I was concerned?"

He bowed down so he was looking directly at her, trying to make sure she knew he had power over her. She wasn't about to let him know that it was working.

His words were slow and deliberate. "Stay out of my business Granger. I mean it."

"Then stay out of mine," she bit back just as sharply.

"Please. I care more about Trelawney's business than I do yours."

"And you hold about as much relevance in my life as McLaggen does!"

She wasn't sure why, but arguing with Malfoy had always emboldened her. She was sure his intentions were always to bring to her, but little did he know all his tormenting had done over the years was stoke the fire burning within her. And the look in his eyes told her it did the same to him.

"Well -," the reply died on his tongue as his gaze flit to something behind her.

"Eh, you two, ever heard of curfew?"

She whipped around to watch as he stormed past her to corner a pair of boys scuttling around the halls. Hermione took a moment to steady her breath and collect herself before following suit, but try as she may she couldn't shake their conversation.

No one had noticed, she'd told herself. She muttered the spell so quietly even Luna and Lavender hadn't heard. They'd been too pre-occupied on the try out to even pay any attention to her.

She felt an unwelcome chill run up her spine as her mind made the connection. Malfoy had noticed. He hadn't been watching the match.

He'd been watching her.


	3. Chapter 3

To Sleep, Perchance to Dream

To say he was exhausted was an understatement. Patrolling with Granger had sufficiently smothered the remainder of his will to live for the day. He walked into the Slytherin dorms silently praying he could make it to his bed without being disturbed. His prayer went unanswered. Typical.

"Mate what took you so long?" Blaise Zabini was lounging on the couch with Parkinson poised on his lap, "You missed Flint trying to figure out whether Vincent or Greg could eat more pasties before collapsing."

"I'm gutted, really," Draco deadpanned.

Pansy shifted so she could see him from her position on Blaise's lap, "How was patrolling with Weasley?"

"Granger," he corrected before flopping onto one of the opposite chairs and pouring himself some firewhiskey. They kept it in a pumpkin juice bottle, but it wasn't as if there were Professors that actually cared enough to catch them.

Parkinson's pursed her lips like she was sucking on something sour, "What does the mudblood have to do with anything?"

Blaise sniggered and Draco ignored them, downing another sip of the burning alcohol.

"She switched patrols with Weasley." He said conclusively, hoping to end the conversation at that. He was tired, and grumpy. The last thing he wanted to do was talk about the Gryffindor princess.

Pansy pouted, "Poor Drake, you had to spend all night with the mudblood bitch."

He saw Blaise frown at Pansy's concern, "I'm sure he didn't mind, did you Malfoy?"

He eyed his friend with a cool stare, feeling as if he was being tested in some way. "Don't feel sorry for me Pans. You know how I love toying with the _mudblood_ bitch."

Satisfied with the venom in his words, the two of them diverted their attention back to each other. Draco cringed as Pansy returned her tongue down Blaise's throat – no doubt what she'd been doing all night. _Anniversary my ass_ , he thought. The two of them sucked face every chance they got and yet here he was, sacrificing his own free time so his friends could have a "romantic evening." He downed the rest of his drink before leaving them to it, out in the common room for all the living and the dead to see.

He sighed as he collapsed in his bed and spun the curtains around to give him some semblance of privacy. From beneath his pillow he pulled out the letter he'd received this morning after the spectacle the Gryffindor's had the gall to call Quidditch try outs. There was no doubt as to whom it was from.

 _Draco,_

 _I trust you are dedicating time to your task and not to the useless games you have spent the last 5 years wasting your time on. The Dark Lord is counting on our family and we are counting on you. Enclosed are the instructions for your next task. Do it during the first Hogesmeade weekend. Do not disappoint us. And do not waste time._

 _Love,_

 _N. M_

He crumpled the note, but left the instructions unharmed and unopened. He would deal with that later. He would deal with everything later. For now, he would sleep. Draco opened the bottle of Dreamless Sleep he kept beneath his bed and poured twice the recommended dose down his throat.

* * *

Draco's mornings began with his usual routing of grooming and deception. After his morning shower he threw on a fresh shirt and pants – he was probably one of the only 6th year males who bothered to actually clean and press his shirts the night before, and secured his tie around his neck leaving the top button undone. He rolled up the sleeves, exposing the Dark Mark for everyone to see. He studied it, as he did every morning. He would be better off just accepting the fact that every morning when he looked down, there it would be: serpent, skull, and all. But no matter how many times he looked, a part of him still hoped to stare down and find unblemished skin. He'd give up soon, he thought. Just as he'd given up on closing his eyes and seeing anything but bloodied hands.

He cast a disillusionment charm for the sake of those who didn't know about his new position. He could just leave his sleeves rolled down, but September remained as sweltering as the middle of July and he didn't want to raise suspicion. It was bad enough that Potter was already stalking his every move – he didn't want to stoke an overzealous flame.

The mark never took well to the disillusionment charm. The glorified tattoo probably felt it was being disrespected, and he soothed a salve his mother had given him over the blemishes that now marred his skin. The pain subsided into a dull ache that he could deal with until he would rub on another layer in the afternoon.

The common room was already deserted when he left the dorms. No surprise that he'd overslept, Dreamless Sleep tended to have that side effect. He grabbed an apple from the common table and made his way down the short trip to the Potions room.

He was the last to enter the room, only just making it in before Slughorn closed the door behind him. He sat at the only empty pair of desks, shooting Blaise who was sitting with Pansy a murderous look. God, blokes with girlfriends were useless.

He set out his things while Slughorn started with his no doubt uninspiring lesson plan. It'd be easy for him to slip between the cracks of the academic hierarchy and stop giving a shit, but he had a reputation to maintain. If not for his father anymore, then for himself.

Slughorn's lecture was interrupted when the door to the classroom was opened. He only had to glance back for a second before he caught a glimpse of a bushy head of brown curls. He smirked to himself, looks like Granger had a late start this morning as well, only she wasn't as adept at hiding the fact.

He watched as she looked around the classroom and wondered how long it would take her to make the connection that her precious Gryffindors hadn't saved her a seat. She shot Potter and Weasley a murderous glare, not unlike the one he'd just shot Pansy and Blaise himself.

"Ah Miss Granger! Please take a seat!"

She blushed and quickly made her way to the only spot free. _Shit_. Now he hadn't been the one to clue into the fact that the only empty spot was next to him.

She didn't meet his gaze as she unpacked in a hurry and opened her notes. From a cursory glance he could tell she'd already pre-written the procedure for the potion before lesson. Typical. He was more annoyed that he hadn't had the same idea as he rushed to write down what Slughorn was saying.

It didn't take him long to realize that the potion they were brewing was in fact, Dreamless Sleep. _Wonderful_ , he thought sarcastically, how perfectly bloody fitting.

"Now can anyone tell me from these ingredients what is the potion you will be brewing in partners today."

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Granger's hand twitch, and before he could raise it he slammed his palm down on top of hers while raising his own arm languidly.

"Ah yes, Mr. Malfoy!"

He could feel Granger shooting daggers at him and struggling beneath his grip. "That would be Dreamless Sleep professor."

"Excellent Mr. Malfoy, I'd say that warrants a good 10 points to Slytherin don't you agree."

He smiled triumphantly while Granger's mouth fell open in disbelief, "I reckon it does Professor."

"Marvelous. Now, many of you may be familiar with the Sleeping Draught from your second year classes, but be wary. Dreamless Sleep is a much more… _temperamental_ potion. But that's enough chit chat for now – you may all get started!"

The class immediately started shuffling about and he withdrew his hand from Granger's. He could practically see the steam coming out her arse.

"Malfoy! You - ,"

"Will go get the valerian root, yes Granger. And you'll take care of gathering the other supplies. Brilliant."

He left her sitting there speechless and blinking, and he almost laughed as he left to go to the storeroom. Something told him that having the opportunity to antagonize Granger was about to make his day a whole lot more fun.

* * *

When he returned she was already meticulously chopping up the first set up ingredients and making a point, it seemed, to ignore his presence.

He furrowed his brow, "I wasn't aware we'd divided up duties yet Granger."

"It's called taking initiative, Malfoy."

"Is that what you'd call the little stunt you pulled yesterday."

She opened her mouth and whipped her head around to make sure no one had heard.

" _Relax_ Granger, I took the liberty of casting a _muffliato_ around our bench."

She frowned, "I don't believe you."

He shrugged, "Not my problem." He made to get on with his own set of ingredients, but she was still staring at him warily. Oh for Merlin's sake.

"I'M IN LOVE WITH RONALD WEASLEY, AND POTTER HAS A BIG FAT SCHLONG."

He turned to her, "Satisfied?"

He could tell she was biting her lower lip to hold back a smile, and after noticing the room's lack of reaction she relaxed and said, "Quite." She peered over at his set of ingredients. "Here, why don't I chop those and you can start adding the ingredients in. It's going to take forty minutes to brew so we might as well get it in there as soon as possible."

"What makes you think I'd take orders from - ,"

"A _mudblood_?" Her words were ice cold, and they sent a shiver down his spine.

He paused and frowned, "I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to. Look Malfoy, I don't want to argue with you alright? I'm tired, I'm stressed, and I'm not even halfway through my Arithmacy assignment. So please, could you just for this once not be a total pain in everyone's arse and just cooperate."

"Is that how you treat everyone you want a favour from?"

She sighed as if the conversation was exhausting her, "I don't need a favour from you Malfoy, I just need basic human decency."

He paused to consider her offer, before relenting. He could get his kicks from her in other way. "Fine. Here."

His compliance must have surprised her, but she grabbed the ingredients from the board he stretched out to her, and began placing them on her own side of the bench. Wordlessly, he took what she already prepared and began measuring everything out into the cauldron.

"Thank you," she said quietly. He nodded.

Before they knew it their potion was one of the first already boiling.

"So is it true?" He asked to break the silence.

Her brows furrowed, "Is what true?"

His mouth twisted in amusement, "That Potter has a big fat schlong of course."

She groaned and muttered something under her breath that sounded a lot like _Idiot_ , and if it hadn't been her, and if he hadn't been dead inside, he might have even laughed.

* * *

With nothing to do for the remainder of the forty minutes, they'd both settled into a somewhat tense silence and pulled out their respective Arithmacy assignments. One person would eye the potion every minute or so to make sure it stayed a pale lavender shade. The moment it went midnight blue it would have to be decanted within 30 seconds or the potion would be for nought.

If he was being honest with himself, Granger actually wasn't a terrible partner. She may be an insufferable know it all 99% of the time she's breathing, but when it came down to getting something done she'd been focused and efficient. Not unlike himself. _Too bad she's a mudblood_ , Draco thought to himself. He was certain Granger would have had no trouble repairing that damned cabinet. _It must kill him inside_ , he thought, _the fact that someone with blood like hers could cast circles around half his men_. He didn't stop to wonder when it had stop killing him inside too.

He found himself unable to focus on the assignment in front of him, but was surprised to find that Granger seemed to be just as distracted as him.

"Something on your mind Granger?"

She paused for a moment, as if deciding whether or not she actually wanted to say what she was thinking.

"How did you do it?"

"How'd I do _what_?" He wanted to push her. Maybe that's what he always wanted to do with Granger. Bend her until she snapped.

"You know what I mean. How'd you even know what I did yesterday."

His mouth twisted into a triumphant grin, "So you're admitting to your stunt then?"

"Obviously," she deadpanned. _Huh_ , he thought. Clearly she didn't think he'd say a word if she was actually admitting it.

"Why so curious?"

" _Because_ ," she emphasized, "I was up all last night thinking about it and it doesn't make any sense. Even if you had the eyes of a hawk you wouldn't have been able to see me cast that charm, so how did you know? I can't think of any spell or charm that would let you know so either you're fucking with me, or hiding something."

He was a little taken aback by her language, but not surprised at her perception.

"You're right."

"Right about what?"

For a moment he debated whether or not to tell her. He wasn't sure why he was even having this conversation with her in the first place. This was Granger. But he was bored and more than likely going to be dead by the end of the year anyway, so what was the harm. Out of the present list of things likely to get him murdered, this surely would fall somewhere near the bottom.

"You're right. There is no spell or charm that _exists_ to let you hear what someone is saying from a yard away."

For someone less intelligent he'd bother spelling things out more, but from the way Granger's eyes widened he knew she didn't need any help figuring it out.

" _You_ invented a _spell_?"

He narrowed his eyes at her, "I'm offended by your choice of intonation."

She ignored his comment and leaned in closer, her words coming out in a rush barely above a whisper.

" _How_! How did you learn to do that? Coming up with spells, that's, that's beyond anything we've ever been taught! I've never even read anything about it!"

"Surprise Granger, not everything there is to learn about the world can be found in the pages of your precious little textbooks."

She looked stunned and so he took the opportunity to lean in closer, "You may have beaten me in every class since we were 12, but I've been practicing Granger. I've been learning, and I've been honing skills you can't even begin to dream of. So you can sit on your pedestal, as high as it may be, but when it comes to making it in the real world…" he looked her up and down, "You won't stand a chance."

He expected her to burst into tears, or something overly dramatic and Granger-like, but instead she leaned in closer to him. He looked at her curiously, and for the first time he saw something akin to a fire burning behind her chocolate eyes. A fire not sparked from hatred.

"Teach me." She said.

He backed away, startled. _What_ _the fuck_? That certainly hadn't been the reaction he'd been going for.

"You're insane," he said coldly. As if he'd share knowledge like that with Granger. His goal had been to taunt her with it, to flaunt it in front of her face. He'd wanted her to lie awake at night thinking about how much more powerful he was than her. He hadn't wanted her to pester him for private illegal spell creation tutoring.

She blinked and shook her head, as if breaking herself out from under some trance. The realization of what she'd asked must have hit her as her mouth opened, but no sound came out. She was about to say something when her gaze flit to their potion.

He caught it turning form lavender to midnight blue the moment she had, and both their hands reached for the decanting vial. He removed his hand from hers, for the second time that day, and allowed her to pour the contents into the vial. When it was done he cast the requisite cooling charm and watched the steam exit in puffs of black smoke as the potion cooled to room temp.

He removed the _muffliato_ from their bench and watched as Granger waved her hand to call Slughorn over. But before the Professor got there he looked at the contents and made his own assessment. The potion looked exactly like his own.

"Excellent work you two, splendid indeed. If Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley hadn't finished a moment before you, I'd say the two of you would have gotten top marks in the class."

Malfoy clenched his jaw and watched as Granger gaped at her own best friends in shock. He nearly snorted at her reaction. Looked like even the most noble of Gryffindors had their own jealous streaks.

"However, this is still something to be proud of. I don't always condone this, but this looks safe enough to me to keep. The two of you can decide who gets to keep the potion, but use it wisely and if the effects are any different than those outlined in the text, seek Madame Pomfrey's help immediately."

With that he was off to attend to another bench and him and Granger were left alone.

"Not fun coming second is it Granger?" He didn't know why he was chiding her. Perhaps only to make himself feel better.

She frowned, but didn't answer and returned her focus to the potion.

"It's irresponsible isn't it?"

He cocked a brow upwards, "What is?"

"Letting us keep the potion. I mean for all he knows we could have made some fatal error and one sip could kill either of us."

He rolled his eyes at her paranoia, but she had a point.

"Are you saying you don't trust our abilities? Cutting me where it hurts Granger."

She huffed, "Of course I'm not, if those two managed it then surely we did too." She realized the pettiness of her comment the moment she said it and Draco smirked as she tried to backtrack. "Not that Harry and Ron aren't fully capable potion makers of course."

" _Of course_ ," he replied sardonically.

"I was simply making a point that's all."

He snickered, "If you're going to make a point about irresponsible decisions you'd be better off starting with the Muggleborn hungry monster Dumbledore let live in the castle."

She laughed, "God that was ridiculous wasn't it"

"I'm telling you, it's a miracle this place hasn't been shut down yet."

She smirked, "Not for lack of trying on your part."

He frowned, and his cluelessness set her off even more.

" _My father will hear about this!"_ She said in what he presumed was supposed to be an impression of himself, a poor one at that. But his mood to be entertained was gone.

His father.

He looked around the room to where the fellow Slytherin's were starting to look up from their potions to see what the hell had Granger so worked up. Yes, his father would hear about many things. But he wouldn't let this be one of them.

"Shut up, Granger. You keep my father's name out of your mudblood mouth."

Her laughter stopped immediately and she looked at him with a mixture of shock and indifference. As if she'd been expecting that reaction from him. Of course she did. Why would anyone expect him to be anything, but an ass. Still, expected as it may have been, he didn't miss the flash of hurt and anger in her eyes.

She glared at the Slytherins who were now sniggering at her expense before turning her stare back at him. Wordlessly she picked up her things and shoved them forcefully into her bag. The sound of her potions book slamming almost made him wince.

He stopped her before she left, "Aren't you forgetting something?" he asked, nodding his head towards the stoppered vial sitting on the desk.

She looked at the bottle and then back at him, a challenge sparkling in her eyes.

"Keep it," she said callously. "You need it more than I do."

His jaw clenched as she whipped her head around and met Potter and Weasley who'd been standing and waiting for her at the doorway.

That had been no act of kindness. It had been a message of provocation only the two of them truly understood.

It said I know your secrets.

Well then, good thing he knew hers too.

* * *

 **A/N:** Hello all! I hope you're enjoying the start of this little story I've got going here. I know 6th year Dramione fics have been done to death, but they're always some of my favourites to read and I wanted to have a go at my own take on the idea and on Malfoy/Hermione's characterization. Let me know what you think so far!


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N :** You may have noticed the title change.. for those confused I have in fact decided to change the title of this story from Small Crimes to Know Thy Enemy. I started this story way back in July and the direction I want to take it has changed slightly, and I feel this is a lot more fitting to where I forsee the plot going. Apologies for any confusion, but enjoy the chapter!

* * *

Knowledge is Power

Two weeks had passed and Hermione's attempts to remove her conversation with Malfoy from her mind had been unsuccessful to say the least. She'd spent her nights pouring over any books she could find that may provide some hint as to how the hell _Malfoy_ , of all people, had managed to invent a spell. And a useful one at that. The unfairness of it burrowed beneath her skin, and she buzzed with the energy of knowing he had knowledge of magic which she didn't.

She huffed as she slammed another tome closed, thrusting it atop of the rest of her reject pile, and kicking her feet up onto the coffee table in frustration. A few of the Gryffindors in the common room raised a curious brow in her direction, but it was only Harry who dared to comment.

"Everything all right there Hermione?" he asked as he set aside his own essay and quill, coming to sit next to her on the couch. She cringed as she heard him crinkling some of the pages containing her notes that he was currently sitting on. She quickly shooed him off and placed them to the side before returning to her previous position.

"Fine Harry, just doing some extra research," she gave him a knowing look.

Harry took a cursory glance around their surroundings before lowering his voice, "Is it for the Order?"

She paused while considering the question. _Technically_ yes, knowledge of spell creation would have immeasurable benefits in their fight against Voldemort. And she knew that, of course she did. What she didn't need to disclose was that her primary motivating factor was more than that. It was a need to satisfy her own curiosity, along with a smaller, but equally as impassioning desire to prove Malfoy wrong.

What did he know about her chances of making it in the real world? He was acting as if she hadn't been in the Ministry just months ago, fighting against people just like his father.

 _His father._

"Eh, Hermione, are you alive?"

She sat up and rubbed a palm along her forehead, "Sorry Harry, yes, I'm fine and it is for the Order – I hope."

He frowned, "Mione, what's going on?"

She shook her head, "Gah it's just something Malfoy said, _did_ , and I can't get it out of my head."

She regret the words the moment she said them. Turning to look at Harry, Hermione could see that his eyes were ablaze, focused, and his palm clenched. " _Malfoy_ , what's this got to do with Malfoy." He lowered his voice even more, "Did he do something to you Hermione? That day in potions?"

She shook her head, "No it's not that. He just mentioned something, a spell, and I want to get to the bottom of it."

Harry frowned, "What kind of spell? The kind of spell only a Death Eater would know?"

She slapped his arm and whispered, "Hush Harry. You don't know he's a Death Eater!"

"And _you_ don't know that he's _not_."

She sighed before finally jumping in and explaining everything that had transpired since the last two weeks.

Harry narrowed his eyes in concentration, staring into the fire place, "So Malfoy knows how to invent spells."

Hermione nodded, "Or at least _says_ he knows how. For all we know someone else could have come up with it and Malfoy was just trying to take the credit. Wouldn't be the first time."

Harry paused for a moment before placing a hand on her knee, "Wait here."

While he was gone Hermione returned to her previous thought. His father. If Malfoy did know how to invent spells there were a limited number of individuals he could have learnt it from. Lucius Malfoy, or some other family friend or Death Eater, were the most likely candidates. Hermione's blood ran cold and she gulped. Spell creation was no frivolous art. Yes, it could be used for good, but as she closed her eyes she saw a skull light up the night. _Morsmorde_. It could also be used for the dark.

Harry came down and placed an all too familiar battered book in her hand.

"Harry Potter," she admonished, "You said you got rid of this weeks ago!"

"I'm not getting rid of it Mione, not when it could help us – look." She frowned, wanting to lecture again, but stopped herself and looked at the page Harry was pointing to.

" _Sectumsempra_ – for enemies," she breathed, "What is that?"

Harry shrugged, "Dunno. But I checked, it isn't in any of the defense books we've had over the years so I'm assuming he –,"

" _They_ ," she corrected.

" _They_ , came up with it themselves."

She knit her brows in concentration. That certainly would make the most sense, but the words _for enemies_ reverberated through her mind giving her an idea – albeit a dangerous one. Hermione hadn't found any information in the books she'd been searching through, but maybe she'd just been looking in the wrong place. There was one place in Hogwarts that may have the information she needed.

"Harry, I don't like this." She said warily, "I don't like this at all."

Her fingers traced the writing on the page, and she was suddenly struck with the sense that she'd seen it somewhere before. She leaned in to get a closer look only to have Harry place the book underneath his cloak. She looked up in confusion only to notice they were garnering the attention of some wandering eyes around the common room.

She collected her own stack of books and threw on her cloak, shoving her wand in her pocket.

"Where are you going?"

"The library. Your Prince has given me an idea."

He frowned looking at the clock, "You're not going to the match?" He was referencing the Ravenclaw – Hufflepuff match. She hadn't been planning on attending in the first place, preferring the comfort of the common room to a match she didn't care about. But now this only strengthened her resolve.

"No," she said – her plan already forming in her mind, "And Harry."

He cocked a brow in her direction.

"I'll be needing your cloak."

* * *

He cast the disillusionment charm before entering the library. It would do no good to wait until he had already been seen entering by Pince. The old bird would probably come looking for him after a few minutes. Surprise, surprise, another Hogwarts Professor who seemed to have a fundamental distrust of Slytherins, and for his plan today that simply wouldn't do.

Draco waited until a group of three Ravenclaw girls, clad in spirited gear, passed him down the hallway before casting the charm. He'd nearly forgotten about the anticipated first match of the season today, but it would serve him well that most of the castle would be empty save for those who couldn't care less about the sport.

He waited until a younger Gryffindor girl entered the library, passing behind her before the door could shut. Even in Hogwarts, doors opening and closing of their own accord was grounds for suspicion.

Avoiding as much movement as possible, he carefully navigated his way through the stacks of the library. Luckily for him, Pince seemed to have her nose stuck in a book and was oblivious to anything around her – for now. He made his way to the back of the library before pausing in front of the door to the Restricted Section. He cast a quick spell revealing charm to see whether or not someone had finally been smart enough to cast a detection spell at its entrance. Luckily for him they had not and he was able to slip through the doors without a soul noticing.

In the darkened stacks of the Restricted Section, Draco removed his wand to cast a faint Lumos, just enough to make out the dusty spines as he perused the shelves. He also cast the sense enhancing charm that had so entranced and infuriated Granger a few weeks ago. He figured he could use the extra awareness in these precarious surroundings.

In all honesty he probably should have done this sooner. Borgin had told him to find the tome in question at Hogwarts before even starting to work on that blasted cabinet. But Draco had always believed more in the learn by experience approach to such things. Unfortunately, to his chagrin, that approach had done shit all for him thus far.

He had to stifle a cough as he brushed away some of the dust covering one of the books on the shelves. Petrified that he'd revealed his presence, he paused for a moment, but after a minute of silence he finally felt he could breathe again. He returned his attention to the book and saw that it was in fact the title he'd been looking for " _Replacement and Repair of Cursed Objects_ ". Brilliant. But just as he reached to open the text, the squeak of the Restricted Section gate reached his finely tuned ear.

He was no longer alone.

* * *

Hermione had been pleased to find the library practically empty upon entering it a few moments ago. She waited until Madam Pince returned to her desk and picked up a novel before making her way to the back most section. Even though she was under the protection of Harry's invisibility cloak, Hermione couldn't help but feel her nerves heighten. Any wrong move or sound could alert someone to her presence.

Nevertheless, she made her way into the Restricted Section without incident and made a right to start perusing the first stack of dark texts surrounding her. Her stomach churned as her eyes skimmed over the titles. She didn't dare to cast a Lumos, but relying on the dim light of the lanterns was straining her normally near perfect eyesight.

In the stacks she couldn't tell whether an hour or ten minutes had passed, but as she searched and searched to no avail, Hermione felt her frustration grow. She turned a corner and began searching through a new shelf, trying not to let herself feel discouraged, when she paused. It was almost imperceptible, but something in the air changed causing a shiver to run up her spine.

She whipped around in a circle to assess her surroundings, only to have her eyes land on a shimmer beneath the torch light. Her eyes strained to see what, if anything, was there – her vision obstructed by the darkness and cloak. As she took a step closer she reached out a hand beneath her cloak only to be met with something hard. A body.

Her eyes widened, but before she could move, the figured had already whipped off the Invisibility Cloak, leaving her utterly exposed. She whipped her head around to meet her assailant, as upon contact with her hand the figure had taken their true shape. She knew who it was the moment she glimpsed the platinum blonde hair.

" _Malfoy!"_

He was scowling at her, while running the cloak through his fingertips.

"You know, you and Potter really ought to learn that just because people can't see you, doesn't mean they can't hear you."

She struggled to reach for the cloak while he held it up and behind him, out of her grasp.

"Give that back Malfoy!"

He sniggered, "What will you give me for it Granger?"

She shot him as murderous of a glare as ever and folded her hands onto her hips, "A chance to leave here without a kick in the arse!"

Malfoy smirked in amusement, "Who knew you had such a penchant for violence?"

"Only when deserved," she made a final attempt at reaching for the cloak, but his height gave him a physical advantage over her. She sighed, giving up the task for now. "How did you even know I was here Malfoy – oh wait, let me guess, more illegal spell work?"

"Only the one Granger. Besides, you breathe loud. Doesn't take a sense-enhancing charm to notice it."

"Why you little -," her barrage of insults was cut short by the familiar creak of the Restricted Section gate. Someone else was entering.

Her eyes met Malfoy's and found they mirrored her own look of fear. If they were caught they were _both_ screwed. She muttered a _Silencio_ over Malfoy, and without the Invisibility Cloak in her grasp she cast a disillusionment charm over the both of them. She felt Malfoy grip her upper arms and drag them into a narrow alcove between the shelf and the cold wall. She shoved herself so she was out of his grip, but remained pressed against the wall. She could feel her heart pounding, and was sure that anyone could hear it from a mile away.

They waited in silence for what felt like hours before Malfoy nudged her shoulder. Because she knew he was there she could see him pointing expectantly at his mouth and she removed the Silencio she'd cast. She stepped away from the alcove and allowed him to do the same.

"Coast is clear Granger, now why don't you run along and we can get back to minding our own business."

"Not. Quite." A familiar voice drawled out slowly.

Hermione shut her eyes and cursed internally as Snape grabbed both her and Malfoy by their lapels and forcefully removed them into the general library. She could make out Madam Pince's voice before she saw her,

"I'm telling you Severus, I have been here all day. I am always here, all day. And I haven't seen a single soul pass into the – by Heavens, Miss Granger!"

Hermione flushed and stared pointedly down at her shoes.

"And Mr. Malfoy! How the devil did you get in! Prefects, the both of you, I expect better from you – now you will tell me and Professor Snape what you were up to at once."

She fixed her gaze on Malfoy who looked more annoyed than frightened at having been caught. His insolence and disregard for authority rolled off him in waves, and Hermione rolled her eyes at his contempt.

Before she could even open her mouth to explain, Snape stepped in front of them.

"I'll deal with these two Irma."

Before giving Madam Pince the chance to object, Snape was already guiding her and Malfoy out the door. They trailed behind him in silence: Hermione silently worrying, and Malfoy silently fuming. He seemed angrier now than he had when it'd been her who'd caught him in the restricted section. She scolded herself just as equally for not being able to catch what he'd been looking for, as for not finding anything to help herself.

As they made their way to the dungeon Hermione found herself glancing over at Malfoy. He'd fixed a murderous scowl directed at the back of Snape's head. This puzzled her – as far as relationships with Professors went Hermione had always thought the Slytherins favoured Snape, and vice versa. She couldn't help but feel she was left out of some silent conversation and missing pieces of a puzzle to which she didn't even know the final product.

Before entering the DADA room, and she presumed, Snape's office – he held out an arm to stop her.

"A moment, Miss Granger."

With a curt flick of his wrist, Snape led Malfoy into the classroom, leaving her standing in the hallway alone. Before analyzing the ethical implications of her decision, Hermione pressed her body up against the door. Without a sense enhancing spell she had to rely on old fashioned tactics.

It was significantly less effective than she'd hoped, but beyond the muttering of voices she could make out Malfoy's raised voice, "I don't give a damn what you promised."

She stepped back from the door then. _Promised_. Promised what and to whom? It was a good thing she'd removed herself when she did, as in that moment Snape burst through the door.

"That will be 50 points for trespassing Miss Granger." He said the words without looking at her only to pause and turn around for a final blow, "And an extra 10 for eavesdropping. Mr. Malfoy has been informed of your punishment. I expect you will be done by the time I return."

She bit her lip against an objection and begrudgingly made her way into the room. She found Malfoy with his back to her, hunched over a desk at the front of the classroom, fist clenched. She made her way to him warily and coughed when her presence wasn't enough to pique his attention.

"We're to wait here for an hour," he said coolly without meeting her gaze.

"Right."

She didn't say anything more for a moment, simply staring at the bulge in his pocket she assumed belong to the Invisibility Cloak. She let out a sigh of relief. At least she wouldn't have to explain it's loss to Harry or go hunting through the Restricted Section trying to find it.

"Uh Malfoy?"

"What?" He snapped.

"What exactly are we supposed to be doing?"

He met her gaze with a raised brow, "How should I know Granger?"

"Well Professor Snape said you'd been informed of our punishment, so forgive me for asking that the same courtesy be extended to me."

He considered her statement for a moment before smirking, "Clever Snape."

She frowned, "What?"

"This is our punishment Granger, nothing but a lovely hour to spend in each other's company."

"Well that's stupid," she observed. Malfoy looked at her curiously.

"First of all that seems like a complete waste of time, and second we can just leave."

He cocked his head and stared at her disinterestedly, "So leave."

She looked at the door considerately and chewed on her bottom lip. She could leave, assuming that Snape had no way of knowing whether she'd stayed or not. More likely than not he didn't care what they did, having already rid them of more than their fair share of house points. There wasn't anything stopping her, except for the fact that Malfoy was making no move to leave. In fact, he was doing the opposite. He'd since pulled out a chair, leaning it to the tipping point, and lounging his head on the desk behind him. She watched as the chair legs teetered on their edge, one push back and the ground falling out from below him. _This may be an opportunity_ , Hermione thought, _to get some answers_.

She picked a different desk, putting enough distance between them, but not too much. Malfoy's eyes were closed, and without a scowl on his face he almost looked relaxed. Or at least, as relaxed as she'd seen him all year.

"Malfoy."

He sighed and opened his eyes, "Granger."

"Why were you in the restricted section?"

He looked at her skeptically, "You can't actually believe I'm going to tell you."

She didn't. But that wasn't what she needed. All she needed was to get him talking. If there was one thing she'd noticed about her previous two encounters with Malfoy, and about the last 6 years, was that Draco Malfoy tended to divulge too much. If you knew the right buttons to press. She just had to make sure he didn't realize he was revealing too much. Catching him in the Restricted Section had convinced her now more than ever that he was up to something. Whether Harry's suspicions were correct remained to be seen, but she could finally admit that Draco Malfoy was hiding something. Harry's tactics of following him down dark alleys of Knockturn Alley, and studying the Marauder's Map like a bible would only get him so far. Perhaps it was time Hermione took matters into her own hands.

"Fine," she huffed, feigning frustration, "Forget I asked."

She knew he was watching her as she reached into her pocket and pulled out the rough folded Arithmacy assignment she had been keeping in her cloak. She'd completed it days ago, but had yet to edit and ensure her calculations were correct before transferring it to a final copy.

"Do you have any parchment?" she asked. Drawing him into conversation again.

He scoffed, "No Granger, I do not have any spare parchment lying around or shoved away in my pockets."

"A no would suffice Malfoy."

She returned her attention to the calculations in front of her. Without lifting her wand, she Accio'd some parchment from a pile of Snape's desk and begun transferring her work. It was almost unnerving, to have Malfoy watching her when they were alone without the buffer of other classmates or distractions. More than once she was tempted to ask him to knock it off, but knew that wouldn't be conducive to what she was trying to accomplish.

Eventually she became so immersed in her work, as often tended to happen, that she didn't notice he'd moved and was now standing in front of her desk. He dropped the Invisibility Cloak in front of her. Hermione grabbed it before he could take it back and toy with her some more. When he didn't move after returning it to her, she looked up and found him staring at her expectantly.

"If you're waiting for a 'Thank you', you're going to be there a long time."

"Hardly," he countered. "I've no use for that little cloak of Potter's. It's history of ineffectiveness has turned me off of its use so no Granger. I do not consider this something to be thanked for. If anything, I should be thanking you for unburdening me of its weight."

She looked at him quizzically, sensing that his rambling was meant to distract her.

"Then what do you want Malfoy?"

Hermione could feel him assessing her, as if he was trying to gauge her reaction before he even spoke.

"I have a proposition for you."

"I'm sure I'm not interested," she rebutted.

"And I'm sure you are. With reference to your previous inquiry, I've decided to change my answer," He swerved around to take the seat next to her, turning her chair so that it was facing him.

"Ok," he said, an evil glint to his eye.

She frowned, "Ok what Malfoy?"

" _Tsk tsk_ , keep up please Granger. Ok I will teach you how to come up with spells. Or is that not what you were in the Restricted Section looking for?"

 _Damn it_.

She decided against acknowledging his astute observation.

"Under what condition. I know you wouldn't do this out of the goodness of your heart, so come on. Don't leave me hanging."

He smirked, "Clever girl. Well turns out Granger, my earlier suspicions about your… _abilities_ have been confirmed. Never thought the day what come, but you have something that I want."

She tried to keep the surprise she felt off her face and out of her voice, "And what's that?"

Malfoy leered at her, "Looks like little miss know it all has something more to her than brains and books. _You_ Granger, can do wandless magic. And I want to know how."

Hermione quickly thought back to that event two weeks ago. She already knew he saw her cast the Confundus, but she hadn't even realized she'd done it wandlessly. She'd been practicing wandless magic since fifth year when planning DA meetings. It came to her so naturally now, she didn't even notice when she did it. Just today she must have cast half her spells wandlessly, but she didn't think anyone would even notice. Only _he_ had noticed.

Here he was, Draco Malfoy, admitting there was something he couldn't do. She was stunned. Yes, wandless magic wasn't taught in school, but if someone was teaching him how to illegally cast self-made spells surely they must have been adept at wandless magic.

"I don't know," she responded, hoping to give herself some time to mull his proposition over.

"You don't know?" Malfoy looked genuinely taken aback, "What's there to think about Granger?"

 _Lots actually_ , she thought to herself. She'd be lying to herself if his proposition wasn't intriguing. In helping her enemy, could she in fact be helping herself? Not just herself, but the Order as well? After their failed stunt today it was unlikely she'd get another chance at making it into the Restricted Section unnoticed, and even then, there was no guarantee a book could help her find what she was looking for. Not this time. But this was Malfoy. There wasn't a single atom in her body that trusted him, and for all she knew this was a trap. But there would be no way to beat him at his own game if she didn't play.

"I don't trust you," she said plainly.

He frowned, growing frustrated. "I'm not asking you to trust me. You don't need to trust me to get what you want from me." That was true as well. And she wanted more from him than just this ability. She wanted to know what he was up to, what he'd been looking for in the Restricted Section, why he'd been at Borgin and Burkes that day. This was bigger than just her.

"And I suppose the same goes for you?"

"Your words not mine Granger."

Hermione frowned and he sighed, clearly growing weary with her reluctance.

"Think of this as a business arrangement. A mutualistic relationship of sorts."

She paused and asked him something else she needed to know the answer to. "Why is this so important to you Malfoy? Why do you need me?"

There was something in his eyes she didn't quite understand. They beseeched her to look at him, to understand something she could not. A quiet desperation, but what he was desperate for she didn't know.

"The same reason you need me. _Scientia potentia est_ ," the Latin rolled off his tongue like a Siren's song, "Knowledge is power Granger. You know that better than anyone."

She pulled her eyes away from his, and stared out the window. The sun was still high, but beginning to set, the light casting menacing shadows across the room. The match would no doubt be over soon, and she needed some time to think. Alone.

Almost as if reading her thoughts Malfoy stood up, straightening his shirt and pants as he did so.

"This offer expires tomorrow Granger. I don't care how you get me your answer, just do it before Midnight."

With that he picked up his cloak, and not for the first time, left her sitting along in an empty room. Her heart was beating rapidly with a mix of apprehension and a sort of twisted excitement. She'd spent her entire summer doing research for the Order, pouring over books. They taught her so many things, all she knew, and those who didn't see the value of books were fools in her mind. But she was smart enough to acknowledge that this was something no book could teach her, not right now.

The thought of entering into some sort of agreement with Malfoy made Hermione's stomach churn. She knew better than to trust snakes, but he was right. She didn't have to trust him to use him. But, that didn't mean she couldn't make it so he trusted her. This was a unique opportunity, one that she couldn't let go to waste, and one that she had to deal with by herself until the time was right to involve the others. As far as he was concerned, Malfoy might think he has the upper hand, and she was going to keep things that way for now.

He didn't have to wait until tomorrow.

She was ready to say yes.


End file.
